Jane woke up quite late that Saturday. Granted, twelve p.m. probably wasn't an abnormal time to wake up on a weekend for most teenagers, but for Jane, it was late. She had allowed herself to sleep in after the party at Henry's the night before. Giselle and Anastasia showed up at her house that night practically dragging her out after she had missed the game. Usually, Jane would laugh and protest and they would leave it alone, but that time, she decided to let loose and do what normal teenagers do. And it was a blast.

So that morning when Jane woke up and saw that it was twelve thirteen, she for once didn't freak out. Well...not yet anyway.

Jane stretched as she got out of bed, taking a moment to gaze outside her window. The curtains were already pulled back, she assumed by her father, and the sunlight shone into her bedroom. She was surprised her dad let her sleep in, but she wasn't complaining. On weekends she would cook breakfast for the two of them and they'd listen to the National Geographic podcast together. Jane took a moment to look at her unfinished painting that sat on her easel in the corner of her room. With a sigh, she got up from bed and headed downstairs.

As Jane tied her hair up and began to walk down the stairs, she realized that she heard voices coming from the study. Voices, as in plural, which was unusual because she only lived with her father.

Jane ignored the voices for a moment as her stomach was much louder. It started to growl the minute she entered the kitchen. Again, however, Jane was surprised that on the table laid croissants on a platter, and the coffee pot was already full. She gratefully grabbed a croissant and poured herself a cup of coffee.

Curious still about the mysterious voice, Jane crept over towards her dad's study. She peered into the room to see her dad hovering over his desk which was scattered with papers. He was talking to someone who Jane couldn't yet see as the door was only slightly ajar. As if aware of Jane's presence, her dad looked up and smiled at her. He walked over and opened the door for Jane.

"Oh Janie, you're awake!" her father exclaimed.

Jane whose mouth was filled with croissants simply nodded and kissed him on the cheek.

"Come on in, I want you to meet someone," he told her. He widened the door so Jane could enter and she reluctantly walked into the study.

On the other side of her father's desk stood a tall man with a nice summer-like tan. His brown hair was styled in long dreadlocks pulled into a half-bun. He wore navy slacks and a maroon vest, his arm muscles bulging through his shirt. The man simply stared at Jane when she entered and she nervously gulped down her croissant.

"This is Tarzan," her father explained.

He still didn't say anything, he just stood there, staring at Jane with his bluish-green eyes. His eyes were intense...and focused. Nothing like Jane had ever seen before.

"He's from Kayes, the Republic of the Congo," he continued, "I've brought him in to stay for a couple of weeks to help me with the book manuscript I've been telling you about, as well as some other academic paperwork."

Tarzan finally cleared his throat and straightened his vest before walking over to Jane and extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, Jane," he said bluntly, "I've heard a lot about you."

Jane partook in his surprisingly firm handshake. All of a sudden, she felt a bit silly wearing her matching yellow pajamas.

"Why...thank you. Unfortunately, I can't say the same," Jane responded, glaring at her dad who couldn't have warned her that someone would be staying at their home.

"Maybe, you can show him around Jane," her dad suggested, "I've got to make a quick phone call."

Jane looked toward Tarzan who nodded and followed her out of the study. She quietly shut the door and stood in the hallway awkwardly for a moment trying to decide what to show her guest. "Have you seen our pet gibbon?" she asked finally. Tarzan shook his head. "Oh he's the cutest thing," Jane asserted.

Tarzan followed Jane into the backyard where a large but still limiting cage had been set up. Inside was a crème-colored primate, resting on a tree branch.

"I like your accent," Tarzan suddenly said as they approached the cage.

Jane chuckled although the comment caught her a bit off guard. "I spend the summers with my Aunt Isabel in London while my father's off traveling the world to study animals, so I suppose my his accent has kind of worn off." Jane reached her hand out to the monkey who took hold of her finger. "That's how we got this little guy. My dad rescued him this summer in Malaysia."

Jane looked at the monkey with sadness. She hated that they had to keep him locked away, but he was only a child and still not used to the new environment. "We hope to reunite him with others of his kind. They need company you know, not just human company."

Tarzan didn't speak, he just watched as Jane carefully stroked the animal. She turned back to Tarzan who was standing eerily still. "So, are you my father's colleague or-"

"Student," Tarzan corrected, "Graduate student, now interning."

"Oh," Jane said quietly. Another awkward silence passed. "How about I show you to your room?"

Tarzan nodded, motioning for Jane to show him the way. The two walked back into the house and turned the corner towards a cozy guest room. The room was decorated with many plants and had framed picturesque landscape photos on every wall. Jane crossed the room to open the closet, showing him the space and opening the curtains so light could enter the room. The two then grabbed his bags that sat next to the front door and heaved them back to the guest room.

Jane took a seat on the bed facing the window and Tarzan slowly sat down as well. "So...what exactly did my father tell you about me?" she asked.

Tarzan smiled a smile Jane hadn't yet seen. It was a refreshing change from his normal stoic facial expression. "I heard you can do a convincing imitation of a theropithecus geleda."

Jane laughed and buried her face in her hands. "Oh gosh," she mumbled into her palms. Tarzan was laughing as well at her slight embarrassment.

Once the laughing had died though, Tarzan looked at Jane. "He also told me you're an amazing artist."

Jane looked up at Tarzan, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Sure Jane liked to sketch every now and again, but she didn't really like to talk about it. When she did people would always ask to see her artwork and quite honestly, Jane hadn't built up enough courage to show anyone besides her dad.

"Amazing is a bit of an overstatement," she protested, looking back down at her lap.

"I doubt it," he stated simply.

Jane was shocked. There was no "It can't be that bad, let me take a look" or "I'd love to see a piece if you don't mind". He didn't pry too much about the matter and Jane liked that.

Suddenly Jane's father burst into the room. "Oh great, you've settled in," he stated with a smile. "Tarzan, could you help me take a look at these theses?"

Tarzan nodded and got up from the bed, briefly looking back at Jane who smiled at him. And with that, the two men had left the room.

Nobody was looking forward to Saturday more than Snow. After finding out she was Juliet in the school play, playing alongside Florian as Romeo, she and Florian had been texting and talking throughout the week. They would talk and make funny faces at each other during Theatre class and he would always walk her to Culinary afterward. They had been planning to go over their lines together on Saturday and the day was finally here. Snow suggested they practice over at her house since her dad was usually busy in his office doing work.

Saturday morning Snow woke up extra early at eight a.m. even though Florian wouldn't be arriving until one. Upon waking up she spent ages in the mirror making sure she looked perfect for when Florian came over. She even had enough time to make breakfast for her brothers and her dad whom she brought a plate up to in his office. Bored, Snow also decided to clean up the house. She spent that later half of the morning sweeping and dusting until one o'clock finally rolled around.

At exactly one, Snow's doorbell rang. Her brothers all ran from their rooms to the staircase, peering over the rails.

"Who's that?" Bashful asked from the top of a staircase.

"Um, a friend!" she answered. "Just- go back to your room!" she told her brothers who of course, didn't listen and wanted to see who was at the door.

Snow quickly fixed her hair in the foyer mirror and adjusted her signature red hairband before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

Florian stood on her front porch with his script tucked under his arm, sports backpack, and a wide grin. Florian waved at a white BMW that had stopped in front of her driveway, probably his parent, to let them know that he was okay.

"Hey," Florian said chirpily.

"Hey," Snow responded breathlessly. They stood in silence for a moment at the front door before Snow finally snapped back into reality. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "come on in."

"Thanks," Florian said as he stepped into the quaint home. As Snow turned around after closing the door behind Florian, she caught a glimpse of her brothers who still stood at the top of the staircase. She aggressively motioned for them to go away and they all scrambled back to their rooms.

Florian stood in the middle of the living room, taking in his surroundings. "Nice house."

Snow chuckled nervously. "It's no mansion," she replied. Disney High was known for its rich students and their even richer-looking houses. For a moment Snow felt embarrassed since she was sure Florian's house was much bigger. Plus, living in such a compact house with seven other siblings sometimes made the place feel even smaller than it was, but it was still home.

"Um, so, I was thinking we could practice outside in the backyard," Snow suggested. The backyard was her favorite part of the whole house. It had a small patio with a couple of chairs and a nice glass table. The backyard was surrounded by bushes and flowers that served as a makeshift fence, with little gnomes and plastic flamingos scattered everywhere.

"Yeah, sure," Florian said, following her towards the back door. He placed his things on the patio set and took a seat. Snow couldn't help but admire the way the sun shone on his face in a way that literally made him shimmer. The warm sunlight cast a golden glow and accentuated his perfectly chiseled face.

Before Snow knew it, Florian was already flipping through pages in his script. Snow quickly picked up her copy and did the same.

"So uh, the first scene that we're in together is somewhere in act one," he said, frantically flipping through the small book.

"Right, uh, I think it's scene five when we first meet," Snow recalled. During class, they had successfully read through and blocked all of act one and part of act two.

"Yes, scene five," Florian repeated until he made it to the page. "Okay, so I guess I start here." Florian cleared his throat and stood up. The two stood a couple of feet away from each other, exactly the way they had practiced during class. For the most part, they had memorized these lines so Florian was looking right at Snow. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand, This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this, My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Snow slightly blushed at the lines. They had gone through this scene many times but it was always in front of the rest of the class, never this close and personal, never…this intimate. Snow recited her lines that followed, not breaking eye contact with Florian.

They continued to go back and forth with their lines until Florian began to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to remember his lines. "Ah, shit uh…" he stammered, briefly taking a look at the script. "O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do, They pray—grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake," Snow replied, having also taken the liberty to peak at the script.

Florian slowly began to approach her, the way Mrs. Maleficent had choreographed, while Snow stood still. "Then move not while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg'd."

Florian stopped, just inches away from her face. "This…is where we kiss," he breathed. He was looking right at Snow's lips and her heart began to pound.

They hadn't practiced the kiss during class. Mrs. Maleficent would always say "Saving the kiss for the show, you will then say…"

"Well," she said, looking at Florian's lips as well, "we must do as the script says."

Without hesitation, Florian's lips crashed into hers. Snow stood still, as instructed, but savored every minute of his kiss when suddenly she heard someone calling her name.

"Snow!" Doc called, opening the back door to the patio. Happy and Dopey stood behind him and Snow quickly broke away from her kiss with Florian.

"Kissy, kissy!" Happy cooed as Dopey crossed his arms and held his cheeks, imitating two people making out.

"Y-yes," Snow stuttered.

"Sorry to interrupt," Doc said with a mischievous grin. "Someone's at the door for you."

Snow raised an eyebrow, confused, but nodded. "I'll be right back," she told Florian as she set her script down. "Shoo, shoo," she told her brothers as she entered the house.

She walked through the hallway to the front door where Grumpy stood holding the door open and conversing with the person. As she got closer and the face came into view, she saw that it was Jim.

"Jim!" she exclaimed nervously, rubbing her arm and looking back towards the patio where she had left Florian alone. He was rocking back and forth with his hands in his pockets. She turned back around to face Jim. "What're you doing here?" she asked.

"We were supposed to make a practice pie?" he said in an unsure voice. "You said to come over at-"

"Right, yeah," Snow said, cutting him off as she remembered during Culinary on Thursday they had also made plans for Saturday. How could she forget? "Could we…reschedule?" she asked guiltily. She felt bad of course since he had traveled all this way.

Jim's face fell. "Yeah…um…okay."

"Hey, you can still come up and play some on the PS4 with me," Grumpy suggested. Jim's face quickly lit up.

"Yeah alright," he said and Grumpy let him in and the two ascended the stairs to his room. Snow let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding and shut the front door.

Eager to get back to Florian she bounced down the hallway towards the back door.

"Who was that?" Florian asked once she shut the door behind her.

"Um," Snow thought for a moment, "no one, it was just Jim coming to hang out with my brother."

Florian seemed suspicious but he didn't say anything else on the matter.

"So, where were we?" Snow asked, picking up her script and trying to change the subject.

"Actually," Florian began, gently lowering her hand, "I wanted to ask you something."

Snow's eyes widened. Florian is planning on asking you to Prom, she remembered Jim saying earlier that week. Maybe he was going to ask her now!

"I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date next weekend?" he asked. His voice cracked a bit and Snow could tell he had just built the courage to ask. It wasn't Prom but their relationship had to start somewhere right?

"Yes!" Snow exclaimed before realizing that she had maybe answered too quickly. She had to be cool about it. "I mean," she cleared her throat and slowly nodded, "yes."

"Great!" Florian said with a smile. His cheeks were beaming and it made Snow smile as well. "I was thinking of a picnic. Is that cool?" he asked.

Snow nodded once again. "Yup, totally cool." She was using all her energy to tone down her excitement.

The two just stood for a moment, looking at each other with dopey smiles. "Oh, but uh, do you mind asking your friend Jasmine if she could come too?"

Snow's smile quickly disappeared. Jasmine? Why Jasmine?

"My friend Aladdin well, he sort of has a thing for her, and I was thinking we could make it like a double date type thing," Florian explained.

"A double date type thing…" Snow repeated, a lot less enthused. Did he even want to go on a date with her or was he just doing this for his friend? Florian still looked at her expectantly. "Yeah, sure, why not," she answered with a fake smile. "Sounds fun."

"Great!" Florian exclaimed.

"Great," Snow grumbled.

That Saturday afternoon, Quasimodo stood alone in front of the movie theatre downtown where he was supposed to meet his friends. As per usual, he was the only punctual one. If Belle, Nakoma, or even Pocahontas had come, they probably would've been on time as well. But both Esmeralda and Phoebus were known for being late. Quasimodo awkwardly pulled out his phone and pretended to be doing something while he waited. A notification popped up at the top of his screen. It was a text from Esmeralda to their group chat inappropriately named 'Ménage à trois' which read: 'omw!'.

After a couple of minutes of scrolling through Instagram, Quasimodo saw Esmeralda running towards him from down the street.

"Hey!" she huffed once she came to a stop. "Is Phoebus here yet?"

"Not yet," Quasimodo told her with a lopsided smile.

"Nice! I beat him," she said as she pulled out a small compact mirror to check on her appearance. Esmeralda's usual lion mane was tied up into a high puff and she had on big gold hoops. Quasimodo resisted the urge to say that she looked beautiful as not to make the moment awkward. But it was true.

Quasimodo had the biggest crush on Esmeralda ever since they first met in preschool. He loved that she was adventurous and always spoke her mind. She would negotiate with teachers for extra juice boxes in elementary and break the dress code during middle school just to prove a point.

They met Phoebus just a year later and they quickly became a close-knit group of friends. But once they entered high school, there had been some unspoken tension between her and Phoebus. For the past three years they had gone to prom together as a group but this year, Quasimodo was determined to ask Esmeralda as his date.

Quasimodo had been staring at Esmeralda for entirely too long at this point when suddenly a voice caught his attention.

"Hey, guys!" Phoebus yelled from the other side of the street, waving his arm. Next to him stood a girl neither of them recognized. Quasimodo and Esmeralda looked at each other quizzically as Phoebus jogged across the street. "What movie are we watching?" Phoebus asked once he made it to the sidewalk where the other two stood. Esmeralda and Quasimodo paid him no attention and were fixated on the girl by his side. The girl had short blonde hair with bangs and dark green eyes and was clutching some sort of pendant around her neck.

"Um, Phoebus?" Esmeralda asked, holding one hand to hide her mouth and using her other hand to point at the girl, "Who is that?"

"Oh, right!" Phoebus exclaimed as if he hadn't even realized he had brought along a whole other human. "Guys, this is my cousin Madellaine." The girl waved awkwardly but didn't say anything.

Quasimodo smiled and extended his hand, "Nice to meet you Madellaine." The girl reluctantly took his hand and Esmeralda echoed Quasimodo's sentiment. "So!" Phoebus started again, rubbing his hands together, "Godzilla vs. Kong?"

"I thought we were going to watch Tenet," Esmeralda protested. Quasimodo just watched as his two friends began to bicker all the way to the ticket booth. They had started walking ahead of him as a pair, leaving him to follow them with Madellaine.

"So, are you from Florida?" Quasimodo asked, trying to make small talk.

Madellaine jumped a bit, not realizing that Quasimodo was talking to her. "No, I uh-," the girl chuckled. "I'm originally from Indiana. This is probably going to sound silly but, I travel with a circus and I'm in town for a couple of weeks so Phoebus's parents offered their home to me."

Quasimodo's eyebrows raised. "A circus?" he repeated in disbelief. "N-not that there's anything wrong with that," he quickly added.

She giggled. "It's alright, I know it's pretty unconventional," she said with a sigh, still toying with her necklace. "Hopefully after this last stop, I'll finally have enough to move to Paris."

"Wow! Paris! I hope you get to go," Quasimodo told her sincerely. Madellaine looked up at Quasimodo and smiled.

"Quasi!" Esmeralda called as she turned around from the ticket booth. "Godzilla or Tenet?"

Quasimodo faked like he was thinking long and hard before finally saying, "Tenet."

"Madi?" Phoebus asked.

Madellaine looked at Quasimodo and then back at Phoebus. "Tenet," she echoed.

"Ha!" Esmeralda exclaimed as they secured the tickets.

As the four of them walked into the movie theatre and got in line for some snacks, Quasimodo couldn't help but notice how Phoebus and Esmeralda were huddled together and laughing amongst themselves, singling out Quasimodo in the process.

"We're going to share a bucket of popcorn and sour patch kids," Phoebus told them. "What about you guys?"

They were going to share a bucket of popcorn?

"Pretzel for me," Madellaine said. Phoebus nodded and turned to Quasimodo.

"Uh…same," Quasimodo said.

Once they got their snacks, they headed into the theatre. It was surprisingly empty with only about seven people total in the theatre, including the four of them. They took seats closer to the front of the theatre after being persuaded by Esmeralda who said she liked to be completely immersed.

Throughout the movie, Quasimodo could barely focus on Robert Pattinson and Aaron Taylor-Johnson since he was so occupied eyeing Phoebus and Esmeralda. Esmeralda sat on Quasimodo's right yet Phoebus's arm laid snug around Esmeralda's shoulders. Quasimodo could feel his cheeks getting hot from anger. Next to him, Madellaine was fully enthralled in the movie. At that moment he wished that a fifth person would've come along because it was starting to feel like a double date, only Quasimodo wasn't clued into the fact that it was a date at all.

"Hey, Es," Quasimodo whispered, "Can I get a couple of sour patches?"

"Shhhhhh," Esmeralda shushed aggressively.

Quasimodo tried pointing to the bag of candy in her hand but she swatted his hand away, not paying him any mind. Just as Quasimodo was about to try again, he noticed Phoebus whisper something into Esmeralda's ear and she began to laugh.

Quasimodo slumped back into his chair in defeat. Angry at the grotesque sight of his friend flirting and upset that his pretzel hadn't come with cheese, Quasimodo sat in silence for the rest of the movie with his arms crossed.

Belle hadn't been to Adam's house since their debacle earlier on Monday. Not that she'd admit it but despite the warnings from her friends and being blackmailed, she wasn't totally dreading going back. Besides, French came so naturally to Belle that she figured tutoring couldn't be that hard.

Yet, when she parked in front of Adam's mailbox she couldn't bring herself to step out of the car. Belle told herself the sooner she went in, the sooner she could leave, so she took a deep breath and walked up to the front door.

Belle took hold of the gold door knocker and knocked softly on the grandiose door. She hadn't noticed the knocker was shaped like a wild boar last time since the door was already open when Adam had let her in.

Belle admired the surrounding woodland while she waited when finally, the front door swung open. Belle swiveled around and was shocked to see that it wasn't Adam who answered, rather a middle-aged man dressed in a bright yellow suit and slicked-back hair.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, "You must be Belle."

Belle stood frozen for a moment, she wasn't expecting him to know her name. "I…yes, I'm Belle. Is Adam here?"

"Yes, come on in," the man urged, widening the door so she could walk in. Even though Belle had been there before, the size of the foyer would never cease to amaze her. The imperial staircase and the mahogany wooden floors with the dark-colored walls made the house look intimidating and yet, it was so mesmerizing. "May I take your bags?" the man asked suddenly.

Startled, Belle clutched the strap of her satchel closer to her body. "No thanks," she told him politely. "So, where's Adam?" she asked, moving away from the door and peering into the adjacent rooms.

"He should be coming down any minute now." Belle nodded in understanding. "Or," the man began again, "you could go up to his room and wait there. I'm sure he won't mind. It's the door at the end of the hall on your right."

Wait in his room? Belle wasn't too sure that he'd like that but she didn't want to wait awkwardly in the foyer any longer.

"Okay," Belle chirped, "Thank you, mister…"

"Lumière," he finished. Belle nodded and headed up the stairs.

Lumière's instructions were clear enough but the hallways were dark and Belle was starting to feel like she was somehow trespassing. Once she reached the end of the hall, she extended her hand to open the door and slowly turned the doorknob.

Belle was half expecting the room to look like a pigsty, but instead, she walked into a very neat and antiquely decorated bedroom. The bed was made, the desk was clear, and the floor looked like it had been vacuumed within the last hour. I guess that's what you'd expect from someone who has maids, she thought to herself.

She took a moment to look around, squinting at the few photos that sat on Adam's shelves and other knick-knacks that served as decoration. Suddenly, the bedroom door burst open.

"What are you doing in here?" a voice growled. Belle turned around, cheeks red hot, to see Adam holding a tight fist on the doorknob. His veins were practically bursting out of his neck.

"I was just-" Belle started to say.

"Just- forget it. Follow me. We'll be working in the library," he told her sternly, already walking down the hall.

Belle scampered behind him, trying to keep up with his long strides as he made several twists and turns throughout the house. Finally, they stopped at two large elaborately decorated doors. When Adam opened them, Belle let out an audible gasp.

She had assumed Adam was exaggerating when he said they'd be working in a library but she couldn't have been more wrong. Walls and walls of bookcases, each filled with books of all different colors, shapes, and sizes. There were two ladders on either side of the room to reach the highest part of the bookshelves. The room was by far more colorful than the entire house. The light blue walls had gold decorative trims and two large windows at the back of the room made the place all the more enchanting. It was literally Belle's dream come true.

"This is incredible," Belle gasped, spinning in circles to take in all in. Adam had already taken a seat in a large armchair and set down some textbooks on a small coffee table that sat in front of him. He cleared his throat and Belle ran over to take a seat next to him. She set her bag down and Adam began to flip through their assigned text.

"So, with M. Ibrahim et les Fleurs du Coran, I'm just a bit confused on this second chapter," he told Belle. He was speaking in such a soft tone Belle could've confused him for someone completely different.

"Alright," she said, smiling at Adam who was already furrowing his brows at the book. "We can read it together."

A couple of hours later, there was a small knock on the library doors. The pair had read through the assigned chapters and had begun working on some grammar exercises before taking a little break.

"Come in!" Adam grunted.

A small, plump figure emerged from the door. It was a woman wearing a white apron over a pink dress carrying a tea set on a tray.

"I hope I haven't stopped you, children, from being hard at work, but I thought I'd bring up some refreshments," the woman said in a sweet voice.

"Oh thank you!" exclaimed Belle who was craving a drink.

"Of course, darling," she cooed. "I'm Mrs. Potts and if you want any other snacks just call me."

Belle nodded gratefully as she took a sip of the tea. It was perfectly sweetened with a hint of lemon.

Adam too had taken a cup and was slowly sipping on it. "Thank you," he muttered quietly.

"You know, Belle," Mrs. Potts began, eyeing Adam nervously as she spoke, "why don't you just stay for dinner. I'm almost finished. You can even bring some home!"

Adam almost choked on his tea at the proposition. "Mrs. Potts I'm sure she'd rather get home than spend this evening with us," he immediately protested. Belle gave him a side-eye as she set her cup down. Why didn't he want her to stay?

"Oh Adam, don't be silly," Belle said with an evil smirk. "I'd love to stay for dinner Mrs. Potts, thank you."

Mrs. Potts nodded giddily and exited the room before Adam could get another word in. As she shut the door Adam turned to Belle with a glare.

"What are you doing?" he asked bitterly.

"What do you mean?" Belle asked slyly, crossing her legs and sinking into the armchair with her tea.

"I mean, why did you agree to stay for dinner?" Adam asked, scrunching his eyebrows together.

Belle just smiled and shrugged. Sure it was nice that she could bring home some dinner for her dad, but Belle really had said yes to see what Adam's life was like. Since he was blackmailing her, now she could at least have some sort of upper hand. Not many people knew him outside of school, he just kind of strode around like a cloud of mystery. That, and she wanted to piss Adam off a bit.

"Whatever," Adam muttered. "Tea breaks over. Let's finish these questions."

Once it was dinner time, Belle followed Mrs. Potts and Adam back downstairs as they led her to their dining area. As expected, it was humongous, with a dining table that stretched the length of the room. Belle counted about ten chairs before she thought to herself, How many people live here?

"Sit, sit!" Mrs. Potts urged Belle who was stood in the middle of the room admiring all the paintings. Mrs. Potts soon scurried back into the kitchen, and Belle was left to decide which of the many seats to take.

Before she knew it, Adam had pulled out a chair where she stood. Belle gave him a look of surprise but he didn't say anything, he just motioned for her to take a seat.

Adam himself then took a seat across the table from Belle and unfolded a napkin that was set on the table to place on his lap. Belle followed his lead as she was not quite sure of the proper etiquette.

Mrs. Potts soon emerged from the kitchen, bringing in more and more dishes each time she went back. Once she had set all of the food on the table she smiled at the two teens and clasped her hands together.

"I hope you enjoy Belle! We have soup du jour, hot hors d'oeuvres, that grey stuff is pâté and it's delicious!" Mrs. Potts commented. "Beef ragout, cheese soufflé. Oh! And I can't forget about the pie and pudding en flambé for dessert!" she huffed.

Belle tried her best to remember everything Mrs. Potts had just said but all the words just jumbled in her mind. After all, food was just food, right?

"Thank you, Mrs. Potts," Adam said, breaking the silence, "Everything looks great." Mrs. Potts bounced back into the kitchen with a wide smile. "Well?" Adam pried.

"Oh- I, I'm not sure what to try first!" Belle told him honestly. She was sure she had never heard of half of the things Mrs. Potts said in her life.

"Here, I can make you a small plate of the things you might like best," Adam suggested.

Belle's eyes widened before narrowing once more. Who was this guy and what had he done with Adam? "Yea-yea, sure. That'd be great."

Another figure soon entered the room, this time a round man with a pencil mustache and a red and brown suit. Geez, how many staff does this guy have? "Sir, Adam," he announced, clearing his throat. Adam looked up towards the entryway, stopping in the middle of making Belle her plate. "Your mother would like me to inform you that she will not be able to make it to dinner."

"Thank you, Cogsworth," Adam grumbled and the man left the room. "It's not like she ever can anyways," he added.

Belle wasn't sure if he had meant to say it so audibly so she could hear, but she had, and she looked at Adam sadly.

That evening, Jasmine stood in front of her full-length bedroom mirror braiding and re-braiding her long, thick hair. She was dressed up in a gold accentuated purple traditional saree for a dinner her father had arranged. All week he would say to her, "Don't forget we have dinner with the Abdallas this weekend".

So of course, Jasmine was stalling by taking apart her braid every couple of minutes. Jasmine couldn't possibly be dreading the dinner any more than she was right at that moment. Not that she didn't mind company, but somehow, every dinner her father arranged happened to be with a family that had a son right around her age. Her father was by no means a subtle man.

There was a gentle knock on her door as her father peered into her bedroom. "Come on, they are waiting," he urged.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Jasmine groaned, putting a gold lotus barrette into her hair as a finishing touch.

Jasmine slowly emerged from her bedroom and made her way down the stairs. At the bottom of the steps stood her father and the Abdallas, Achmed, and his two parents. As she descended the staircase she couldn't help but feel like she was a princess, and her royal subjects were awaiting her arrival.

That, however, was not the case.

"What took you so long?" his father muttered to her once she stepped onto the ground level.

"Sorry Father," Jasmine replied with a sigh.

Her father didn't even wait to hear her answer before saying, "This way," as he led the guests towards their dining room.

"You look hot," Achmed whispered to Jasmine as they walked through the house. Jasmine could only roll her eyes. It was always the 'good Indian boys' who never knew how to properly talk to a girl.

As they made their way to the dining room, the adults all quickly took their seats, leaving Jasmine to sit next to Achmed. He gave her a flirtatious wink as she sat down, scooting her chair further away from him.

The cooks began to bring in dishes of steaming traditional Indian food while the adults started to converse. Jasmine had no interest in joining in on the conversation of how profitable oil was at the moment, or how the stock market was working in their favor. Instead, Jasmine quietly picked at her food with her cheek resting on her palm.

Achmed chatted her ear off, not seeming to notice that she wasn't at all engaging in the conversation or even listening to what he was saying for that matter. "Even though I'm just a sophomore, I'm guaranteed spots at Harvard, Yale, and Brown," he would say, or, "I'm going to inherit my dad's business soon, he's already letting me attend meetings," or, "I've been to so many dinners this week, none of the girls were as pretty as you though."

Jasmine almost gagged at that last comment. Achmed didn't stop for a second as he droned on and on about himself. Her father didn't even seem to notice what a miserable time she was having. She never understood why he even insisted on the stupid dinners when all guys were the same.

All guys except Aladdin, she thought for a moment.

She quickly put the thought out of her head as she felt the tail of her ginger Bengal cat brush against her legs. Jasmine looked under the table to find her cat, Rajah, cuddled at her feet.

She made a silly face at the cat under the table as he nuzzled her leg. Jasmine knew how her dad felt about Rajah being around when guests were present but as long as he stayed hidden, she figured it'd be okay. Suddenly, the cat leaped over to Achmed's feet.

"Rajah, no!" Jasmine whisper shouted.

But it was too late. Seconds later Achmed let out a loud 'Yeeoooow!' as Rajah sunk his teeth into his foot.

The three adults looked at Achmed with concern, quickly making their way over to coddle him. During all the commotion, Jasmine quickly swept the cat up off the ground and exited the dining room.

"Stay," Jasmine ordered once she set him down in another room. Jasmine grinned, thinking she had escaped her father's wrath but once she turned around, there stood her father with a scowl on his face.

"Jasmine Balroubadour Agrabah! You know better than to have that cat roaming around when we have guests!" he exclaimed, careful not to make too much noise in front of their precious guests.

"Oh, Father," Jasmine began, putting on her sweetest voice, "Rajah was just playing with him." Jasmine turned to the cat and gently stroked his back. "Weren't you, Rajah? You were just playing with that overdressed, self-absorbed Achmed, weren't you?" She smirked before walking past her father to exit the room.

"Allah forbids you to have daughters," Jasmine's father said to the cat with a sigh before following Jasmine back into the dining room where Achmed and his family had settled down.

Jasmine sat through another half an hour as her Father and the Abdallahs drank wine and laughed while Achmed continued to hit on her.

Suddenly, Jasmine felt her phone vibrate. She immediately perked up, eager to have some sort of distraction from the scene in front of her.

The text was from Snow and read: 'Picnic with Florian and Aladdin next Saturday.'

Jasmine smiled at the name Aladdin as she read it on her screen. Maybe it's a date, she wondered.

Her phone chimed once more. 'Are u in?', the next message read.

Jasmine's thumbs quickly typed 'yes !' and sent the response. She hastily pocketed her phone before her father could give her any more grief about being a 'disrespectful host'.

When Jasmine looked back up from under the table, she unconsciously began to smile. Maybe the night wasn't a total bust after all.